Young Ned of the Hill Songtext
von Ron Kavana
Young Ned of the Hill Songtext
Have you ever walked the lonesome hills or heard the curlews cry
Or seen the raven black as night upon the windswept sky
To walk the purple heather and hear the west wind cry
To know that′s where the raparee must die
To know that's where the raparee must die
Since Cromwell pushed us westward to live our lowly lives
Theres some of have deemed to fight from Tipperary Mountains high
Noble men with wills of iron who are not afraid to die
Who will fight with Gaelic honor held on high
Of such a man I′d like to speak a raparee by name and deed
His family disposessed and slaughtered, sworn to fight the British breed
His name is known in song and story and his deeds are legend still
I tell you now the sorry tale of Young Ned of the Hill
You may rob our house and fortune even drive us from the land
But you'll never break our spirit and you'll never understand
The love of dear old Ireland that will forge an iron will
As long as theer are gallant men like Young Ned of the Hill
As long as there are gallant men like Young Ned of the Hill
A scourge to the redcoat soldiers with a price upon his head
To tempt a weaker soul to tell where he kept his bed.
One night as he lay sleepin′ - his head beside his sword -
Murdered by his cousin Dwyer to claim a coward′s reward.
The day after O'Dwyer had murdered Young Ned in his bed
He went for his blood money but was jailed himself instead
For Ned he had been pardoned the very day before
And a noose upon the gallows was O′Dwyer's just reward.
You may rob our house and fortune, even drive us from the land
But you′ll never break our spirit and you'll never understand
The love of dear old Ireland that will forge an iron will
As long as there are gallant men like Young Ned Of The Hill.
A curse upon you Oliver Cromwell, you who raped our motherland
I hope you′re rotting down in Hell for the horrors that you sent
To our misfortunate forefathers who you robbed of their birthright
"To Hell or Connaught!" may you burn in Hell tonight!
You may rob our house and fortune, even drive us from the land
But you'll never break our spirit and you'll never understand
The love of dear old Ireland that will forge an iron will
As long as there are gallant men like Young Ned Of The Hill.
As long as there are gallant men like Young Ned of teh Hill
Or seen the raven black as night upon the windswept sky
To walk the purple heather and hear the west wind cry
To know that′s where the raparee must die
To know that's where the raparee must die
Since Cromwell pushed us westward to live our lowly lives
Theres some of have deemed to fight from Tipperary Mountains high
Noble men with wills of iron who are not afraid to die
Who will fight with Gaelic honor held on high
Of such a man I′d like to speak a raparee by name and deed
His family disposessed and slaughtered, sworn to fight the British breed
His name is known in song and story and his deeds are legend still
I tell you now the sorry tale of Young Ned of the Hill
You may rob our house and fortune even drive us from the land
But you'll never break our spirit and you'll never understand
The love of dear old Ireland that will forge an iron will
As long as theer are gallant men like Young Ned of the Hill
As long as there are gallant men like Young Ned of the Hill
A scourge to the redcoat soldiers with a price upon his head
To tempt a weaker soul to tell where he kept his bed.
One night as he lay sleepin′ - his head beside his sword -
Murdered by his cousin Dwyer to claim a coward′s reward.
The day after O'Dwyer had murdered Young Ned in his bed
He went for his blood money but was jailed himself instead
For Ned he had been pardoned the very day before
And a noose upon the gallows was O′Dwyer's just reward.
You may rob our house and fortune, even drive us from the land
But you′ll never break our spirit and you'll never understand
The love of dear old Ireland that will forge an iron will
As long as there are gallant men like Young Ned Of The Hill.
A curse upon you Oliver Cromwell, you who raped our motherland
I hope you′re rotting down in Hell for the horrors that you sent
To our misfortunate forefathers who you robbed of their birthright
"To Hell or Connaught!" may you burn in Hell tonight!
You may rob our house and fortune, even drive us from the land
But you'll never break our spirit and you'll never understand
The love of dear old Ireland that will forge an iron will
As long as there are gallant men like Young Ned Of The Hill.
As long as there are gallant men like Young Ned of teh Hill
Writer(s): T. Woods, R. Kavana Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com